


bleached sunshine

by caitss



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Blood, Canonical Character Death, Last Conversations, bludgeon, happy birthday angie!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 19:33:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14362131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitss/pseuds/caitss
Summary: [MAJOR NDRV3 SPOILERS!]Angie wakes up, her head throbbing.Happy birthday, Angie!





	bleached sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> this has the same,,, thing as the Momota one !!  
> have a nice day  
> just for u Kate

A paintbrush in hand, Angie adds the finishing touches to the effigies. God’s hands guide her as she gets lost in the features of all of the effigies, each stroke thoughtful and well placed. She adds a shine to each of their eyes, and highlights their faces, their empty faces. God reminds her that they don’t have souls, and that you could never make a soul, and it sounds too much like Shuichi. She doesn’t disagree, and instead cheerfully grins to herself, a silent agreement. Once she’s done, she looks at the four masterpieces in front of her, each and every one looking human. She sighs. She needs to get a candle now, so she walks out of her lab, the floorboards creaking under her feet. 

Angie is too careful- the last death happened at night, and her every sense is on alert. Even if she was cheerfully smiling and swinging her arms on the outside, her eyes shift in paranoia and her ears perk up at every noise. As she makes her way to the rooms, she swears she hears a feminine voice somewhere out there. Despite this, God presses her, telling her to move onward. She stops in front of the middle room, and enters, making her way over to the candle. 

Then her eyes land on a shadowy figure, and she turns around, God’s voice so small and distant. Korekiyo - what was he doing here? Interest piqued, she looks at the saw and the cross piece, he seems to be at work. Constructing a death trap. She clears her throat, and he faces her, a look of shock on his face. Angie inhales, and grins at him, as if she has no clue what’s happening right now. 

“Korekiyo!” She greets him, God’s voice screaming at her to run, “What are you doing out so late at night? Didn’t you hear the student council’s rules?” Angie tilts her head to the side, and he takes a step closer. “Ah, Angie,” Korekiyo calmly says, “I didn’t see you there.” He doesn’t answer her question, and she starts to pry, “What do you need that for?” Angie points at the loose floor board, and she swears she hears him growl. “Unfortunately, it is none of your business.” 

“But it is Angie’s business!” She shoots back, “Because she’d hate to die like that. Anybody would.” Her voice lowers an octave, and she stares into his eyes. “That’s what you’re planning, correct? A death trap!” Angie’s voice reverts back to normal, and she looks away from him. Korekiyo looks so shocked, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “I was, but...” 

His hands close around the floorboard, and he lifts it with ease, backing her into a corner. God’s voice isn’t there anymore, it’s only her panicked thoughts- and she’s such an idiot. A idiot who thought she could converse with this man. Korekiyo holds the board above her head, and Angie softly weeps a bit, her death too soon, too soon. Instant pain fills her body, and the darkness of supposed death is all she sees. 

She wakes up, her head throbbing and her neck screeching with agony. The room is all white, the beeping of a monitor ringing in her skull. A IV is in her arm, and everything is hazy. Her body feels so numb, and it’s a while before she can gently shake her leg. Angie feels panic dump into her body, the cold rush of paranoia back, making her heart pound. Where is she? She struggles to move her whole body, and even as her surroundings become more clear, the pain all over never fades. 

The door swings open, and a nurse with fair hair in a low ponytail comes in, her outfit jet black with a strange logo sewn on. Angie wants to scream and ask her where she is, what happened, and why the hell is a strange boy with long black hair plaguing her thoughts. But her throat is so raw, she feels like she will rip it in half if she even speaks. The nurse stares at her, before speaking, “Miss Yonaga. You are awake.” She says it so dully, as if she didn’t care. “Very early, too. Right after you died.” 

Confusion fills her brain, and Angie wants to ask ‘who?’ ‘death?’, but all she can do is stare. “You can’t talk yet. Soon, you will.” The ticking of the clock is the only sound after that, the nurse’s eyes focusing on Angie. They are both regarding each other as if they aren’t human, both are silent. Eventually, the nurse turns and leaves, and Angie is left on her bed of bricks and lies. The nurse never answered her - where is she? She doesn’t understand - and she wants to scream, but nothing comes out of her mouth still. Angie’s head pounds, and her throat feels like a desert, everything spinning in a circle. She falls asleep. 

Awakened by the sound of the door opening again, Angie finds herself looking at the same nurse. With apathetic regard and silence, the nurse makes her way to Angie, resting a cold hand on her wrist. “Miss Yonaga. It was all fake. The killing game - simply a show. You were on TV. Simple. Though, you weren’t supposed to wake up now.” 

She remembers everything, right then and there. The killing game, all her friends, death, death, death. Angie needs answers, panic rising in her heart and spilling over the top. Tears spill, and she makes a pathetic attempt to communicate, barely moving her legs. “I understand your panic. All will be known soon, I suppose.” Angie won’t take this as a answer - she starts to thrash, newfound strength in her body as she forces out a hoarse scream of denial, a deity’s voice gone. “Miss Yonaga. Please calm yourself.” Angie doesn’t listen, she’s done listening, and instead she screams at the top of her lungs again. The nurse smoothly straps her down to her bed, no worry or care in her eyes. 

“Congratulations.” She says to Angie as the girl attempts to break free from the restraints, “Even if you didn’t live, you participated in season 53 of Danganronpa.”

The nurse turns on a TV in Angie’s room, and the girl looks. 

As the door closes, and Angie is left alone, she watches as Korekiyo is burnt alive in a cauldron, his eyes wide and blood spilling out of them. She wants to vomit, and she can feel the bile working it’s way up. It never comes out, though, and she tries to close her eyes, his screams ricocheting off the walls of her mind.

Suffering is a two way street.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! also happy birthday Angie!


End file.
